


Abandoned

by Aya_Diefair



Series: Aya's MCU "Fix-Its" or "Wrote It Better" Archives [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aggravating/Reopening a Major Injury, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Anxiety Attacks, Implied/Referenced Panic Attacks, Infinity War and Endgame Interlude, Interlude, Major Character Injury, Male-Female Friendship, Non-Consentual Sedation, Outer Space, Post-Decimation, Referenced Surgery, implied/referenced survivor's guilt, sibling-like relationship, stranded in space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-17 09:05:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18962146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aya_Diefair/pseuds/Aya_Diefair
Summary: After facing a crippling defeat, Tony attempts to survive space in order to make it back to Earth, but it appears he has to accept fate sooner or later. — - Infinity War and Endgame Interlude. — - Nebula & Tony Friendship — - COMPLETE





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** Welcome to my _Infinity War_ and _Endgame_ Interlude, featuring Nebula and Tony Stark. Why these two lovelies? Well, because I had so many questions about their situation. Why didn't they just make a jump back to Earth? How bad of shape was Quill's ship in to begin with? Why didn't a distress signal contact someone out in the cosmos? How did Tony and Nebula's relationship build up in those 22 days?
> 
> So many questions, zero answers... until I made some.
> 
> I hope I answer them all within reason and do the MCU-verse justice, and I also hope that you, dear reader, have some questions answered as well while reading.
> 
> This story is also complete. [Shocked]. So a chapter will trickle out at a regular pace for a change. [Gasp] This is not my usual style, though I like the feeling of completion. Very satisfying. Sorrynotsorry for all the space/sci-fi references. You know Tony would.  
>  
> 
> **Some quick notes:**
> 
> -I use some comic-verse things in here, such as the planet Titan being based off Saturn's moon.
> 
> -I used the distance from Earth to Saturn with this in mind.
> 
> -Though I don't think Marvel's planet Titan is meant to be in our galaxy... Space is big after all, but I am putting them in our galaxy anyway for 2 reasons:
> 
> 1: because the comics said it was based on Saturn's moon, and
> 
> 2: I doubt Captain Marvel could safely carry a ship with a dying human on board over 1,000 Light Years (referenced with a throwaway comment by Tony), in less than 1 Earth Day before the oxygen ran out onboard. Sooo... give me some credit for trying to make it a little realistic at least, yeah? 1.6 billion kilometers (746 million miles) is still so very far.
> 
> Anyway... Enjoy.
> 
>  **Warning:** Multiple incidents of aggravating/reopening of a major injury. Implied/referenced survivor's guilt.

* * *

 

 ~~ **o**~~ **Dedicated to HecateC ~~o~~**

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 1**

 

_(Bzzzt… Tick… tick…)_

Tony: Is it—Are you working?

Testing… One. Two. Three.

_(Shhhhh… bzt… tick…)_

Tony: Space… The Final Frontier.  This is the voyage of the Starkship Enterprise… and companion Nebula...

Tony: Playback…

_(Audio that was just recorded replays on command.)_

Tony: Okay. Great. It works!

_(Sounds of throat clearing is made.)_

Tony: Captain's Log—

Nebula: Who said you were the Captain?

Tony: It's just a saying used to document information.

_(A crashing noise is heard.)_

Nebula: We need to get to work.

_(Several hours later…)_

Tony: Captain's Log, Earth Year 2018,  September 1st. Day Zero.

 

It has been several hours since Pollyanna, Vin Diesel, Quail, Dr. Strange, and— _(A heavy, stuttered breath is released.)_ —Peter were turned into ash.  We can only assume that this is the result of The Snap.

The Blue Meanie and I are the only survivors remaining on the desolate moon-planet Titan. 

If my astronomical calculations are correct, that places us near Saturn, which is about one-point-two billion kilometers from Earth.  Nothing a ship with warp speed can't handle…

Unfortunately the only two spacecraft we were able to salvage from the battlefield are Quill’s and Nebula's, but both are in pretty rough shape and heavily damaged.  Squidward’s ship is beyond repair, but it makes for good salvaging at least.

We were able to pick through the remains of the Donut Ship that put me here for rations and parts, but the tech is foreign to me… Nebula is the only living instruction manual available who knows just enough to make one of these things functional again so I am at her mercy if we are to have any chances of getting off this rock.

Despite the damage, it seems like Quill’s ship holds promise to become operational once some more TLC is given.  The distress signal is working, but that's pretty much it for now…

 

* * *

Tony examined every angle he possibly could of Quill’s ship, taking in the mechanics, technology, general development, and operations behind it.  He was half lucky its owner was of Earth, so the manual he found in a pile of junk was at least written in a language he knew—English. It offered little help in understanding the craft of spaceship maintenance despite the small blessing of its readability, though.  He was not going to let that minor detail hold him back, however.

Swallowing hard, Tony studied the material anyway while Nebula came and went, bringing in scraps of the ship she used to crash into Thanos and the Donut Ship that transported him here onboard before stripping it down for parts that could be used or needed later.  He sat in what he assumed was the Captain's chair, flipping through page after page of the manual, attempting to focus on the task in front of him instead of the overwhelming failure and loss they had just faced.

He needed to get back to Earth by any means necessary.

A metal ripping sound startled Tony out of his trance-like studying.  He looked to his left to see Nebula crouched in front of the operation panels dashboard, the base of it was removed, and she was pulling at wires and things and attaching them to her fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Hit the brakes, Smurfette.  What are you doing?”

Nebula’s dark eyes looked over at him before she started tinkering with her robotic arm again.  “Getting us out of here.”

“Right, good plan.  Bad execution,” Tony said.

She paused to glare at him.  “At least I am not reading and wasting time.”

“You can’t just tear apart the—” he gestured with his hand at the operational panel, at a loss for words on what to call it.  “—this all willy-nilly and expect to hotwire the thing.”

Nebula looked utterly confused by the comment before going back to what she was doing.  Tony ran his hands through his hair, flinching from the stab wound in his side as he watched the damage unfolding in front of him while the cyborg tinkered with the foreign materials.  She knew more of what she was doing than he did, which was fine, but seeing it unfold with no proper planning made him extremely uncomfortable. She haphazardly ripped apart something he was pretty sure was a crucial element to making the ship work.

Who knows, maybe she was doing just that; hotwiring the thing.  He felt like there was going to be way more to it then that; the thing had to get them a very long way in a short amount of time without falling apart.

At least, he hoped it could.

The sudden shock that surged through Nebula, causing her to scream in response, had him startle and stumble back into the seat.  His injury screamed in response to the jerking motion, sending a fresh wave of pain coursing through him. Getting back to his feet, he held his hands up in front of him, not knowing what else to do.

“Look, Nebula was it?”

“We established names already,” she hissed out heavily, recovering from the shock.  “But yes… Tony.”

“We've got to work together on this.  It’s just you and me on a dead floating space moon.  Unless a miracle something decides to drop in and is friendly enough to pick up hitchhikers, this ship is our only shot on getting out of here.”

Nebula rose to her feet and faced him, arm still connected with wires and cords from the dash.  She tilted her head while she listened, seemingly to observe him in the meantime. It was hard to tell with her alien eyes having no pupils.

“At least keep me informed of what you’re doing?  I’m no space-savvy mechanic, but I’m no Average Joe, either.”

“A man who is capable of making himself a machine at will is not average, even for interstellar standards,” Nebula said, pausing her task to look at her hand longingly before promptly resuming.

“I’ll take the compliment,” Tony said.   “Just… tell me what needs done and I’ll do it.  Deal?”

Tony held out his hand to her and she stepped back immediately, instinctively going into attack mode before realizing what he was doing.  Nebula looked at the outstretched hand and back at him, relaxing her posture slightly when she saw the gesture was not threatening.

“What are you doing?”

“You, uh, shake it.”

“For what purpose?”

“It’s like a casual peace treaty, of sorts,” Tony explained.  “A way to show an agreement—a temporary contract with someone else.  Here.”

He reached for her un-tethered right hand, flinching again from the movement transferring to the wound, and gave it a shake.   Nebula then shook it again before letting go, seeming to understand the explanation and gesture.

“I am transferring the energy I siphoned from my ship into this one in order to charge it enough for its mainframe to come back online.  This will help with diagnostics to determine what works and what needs to be repaired,” Nebula explained, tinkering again with her arm and adding another plug at her elbow.  “If we are lucky, the navigational and jump drive systems are still intact and functional.”

Tony nodded as she spoke, watching her carefully.  “That… is starting to sound like the language I am familiar with.”

“As soon as it becomes capable of flying, I’ll siphon Ebony Maw’s Q-ship in order to give it a boost for take off.”

“Wonderful,” Tony said, gasping suddenly from the forgotten pain.

He sank back into the seat, holding his bleeding side.

Nebula was kneeling before him when his vision returned and his head stopped spinning. She lifted up the tattered shirt he wore to inspect the injury.  He tried to stop her, but the robotic strength held his hand firmly away. “You are lucky to survive the impaling from your own weapon by my father.”

“Wouldn’t call it lucky,” Tony stuttered out, trying to stay conscious as Nebula prodded at the gash.  “It’s just a flesh wound.”

“Don’t move.”

Nebula disconnected her arm from the wires quite carelessly, in his opinion, before disappearing out the back of the ship.  Tony did as he was told and stayed in the seat, trying to focus off the pain and back to the manual he still gripped in his hands.  His Iron Man helmet was propped on the top of the space dash beside him, and after several attempts to skim the manual’s blueprint he flipped open to, Tony’s gaze kept drifting over to his helmet.

The nanotech was toast, Thanos made sure of that, but he had to celebrate the small stuff; at least he was able to get the helmet working well enough to record and playback messages in case.. .

He shook his head and put a mental pin in the idea to properly document their progress soon. It was what every sophisticated Sci-Fi show and movie did, right?

Tony noticed a red blinking light beside the helmet. Leaning forward just a bit with a small wince, he was able to match the manual’s dash blueprint with it to decipher that it was the ship’s distress call signal pinging every thirty seconds or so.  It wasn’t doing that before, so whatever Nebula had just done managed to activate it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Involuntarily administrated sedatives. Implied/Referenced panic/anxiety attacks. Implied/referenced survivors guilt.

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 2**

 

Tony: Ship’s Log, Earth Year 2018, September 3rd. Day Two.

 

Nebula and I were able to get the—Quill called it Benatar? _(A slight chuckle is heard.)_  We were able to get the Starkship's mainframe back online in record time.  Nebula is still sorting through the overall damage to it before we even attempt to test fly the thing.  It has great infrastructure for a spacecraft, if I must say. Her previous owner took very good care of her when it came to upgrades and maintenance.  The cassette player is a nice throwback. It's difficult to refrain giving it a spin since preserving energy is crucial. A shame, really. The kid has good taste in his mixtapes.

My injury is being uncooperative and reopening with every movement I make, it seems—

_(Nebula is heard scolding Tony in the background.)_

Nebula: You’re the one being uncooperative and agitating the wounds.  I told you to rest while I handle the repairs. This stubbornness is going to kill you.

_(Tony half-ignores the statement.)_

Tony: Wouldn’t be the first time.

Despite this minor setback, notable progress has been made on the ship, and the exit wound appears to be healing quickly.  I will be sure to thank intergalactic medicine for my relatively speedy recovery if I… when I…

_(There is a long pause. A labored breathing is heard before a slightly hoarse voice continues.)_

Tony: Rations have been calculated and stretched out to last about ten to fourteen days between us. Seems like the space traveling type only stock a few days worth of emergency supplies, which seems so reckless considering our circumstances. The fact this supply came from three different ships shows that space-folk have a lot of confidence in not getting stranded out here.

We hope to get a test flight in tomorrow at the earliest, and out into the unknown by sundown if all goes according to plan.  With the way we’ve been able to tune up the thing already, this goal is feesabile to achieve.

To keep the inevitable gloom from setting-in and taking over, I constructed a chess table and pieces during my involuntary time-out instilled by Nebula.  Keeping the mind focused and sharp is Survival 101—for me anyway. Nebula seems to run on all cylinders at all times and doesn't understand the meaning of taking a break, yet she expects me to oblige.

_(Tony laughs humorlessly at what he said.)_

Tony: She is still somewhat jumpy and defensive when I make any sudden approaches or movement toward or around her, and is a bit aggressive when I coax her to stop and play a game when I have exhausted myself physically but still need a mental break.  Though from what little she has told me of her upbringing, it puts the reactions all in a very different perspective for me.

 

* * *

 

Nebula busied herself in rehooking the wires and cords back to where they belonged after ripping them out of the dash a few days ago.  She seemed confident that she restored the necessary parts needed for the spacecraft to fly and navigate through space, and she expressed the same confidence while putting it all back.  Tony was thrilled to hear this, but knew she refused to tell him anything more in regards to the integral gift all spaceships were crafted to have—warpspeed, hyperspeed, lightspeed, jumpspeed, wormhole time-bending travel, whatever the movies called it that involved the word “speed” or “travel” that he could apply and used to fix this very real life situation—and would get them back to Earth that wouldn't involve him aging a hundred years or be dead before arriving there.

“The navigation system is faulty.  Setting a direct course to get to your planet will only locate general coordinates instead of precise ones,” she said.

“Alright. Well, if I didn't know any better, Earth is near the Sun. So we aim in its direction and go from there,” Tony said sarcastically, impatience starting to seep through his reasoning.

“It isn’t that simple.”

Tony huffed, disgruntled by the reply.  “What we should be focusing on is getting the hunk of junk to fly and not explode in the process.”

“We can only work with what we are given,” Nebula scolded,  “and right now the ship is showing me what is somewhat functional and operational on the inside.  I will inspect the thrusters and engines now that there is enough power to charge them and have them reveal potential faults and damage.”

Tony threw his hands up, stopping his attempts to mend the dash with the alien laser-like tools.  “We should have been doing that yesterday! At this rate it'll be another two or three days before we even get off the ground.”

Nebula watched as he got up and paced the small space in frustration. She herself appeared annoyed, but more by his emotional reactions than the situation.  His hand subconsciously rested over the wound on his side, and as he continued to pace and kick at the scraps of metal, he seethed and winced from his body warning him to stop.

“You need to rest.  Your body is not handling the exhaustion, and your wounds are going to reopen.”

“What I need is to get back home!” he shouted, slamming his hand hard down on a flat surface beside him.

Tony wasn't prepared for Nebula's reaction to his outburst, given her honed reflexes were perfected to respond quickly, she subdued him in under three seconds and stabbed something into his neck.  He was out by the time she laid him down on the cot.

When Tony came to, thankfully only a couple hours later, he was calmer and slightly embarrassed by his outburst.  The stress and reality was starting to set in with the exhaustion. He knew Nebula was right, trying to keep up with a cybernetically modified alien was not something he was going to manage for much longer. But he couldn't simply rest, either, that would start to make things all too real for him.  Idling was not in his vocabulary, and remaining stationary was definitely not one of his practiced habits, so he instead grabbed a few things around him and tinkered, keeping his movements to a minimum to avoid agitating his injuries.

Nebula must have been outside inspecting the engines and thrusters when he pulled his focus away from his makeshift chessboard creation to scan the compact space of the ship, seeking her out.  He lifted up the fresh shirt he put on that he found under the cot to inspect the wound, which seemed to appear remarkably better, even if whatever gel-like substance that was lathered over it made it appear purple and sickly.  He couldn't see the exit wound, but after a careful touch inspection he determined that it was healing better than the front, which was expected given how it was smaller and narrower.

She re-entered the ship and moved to a panel that lit up at her touch. Tony watched her for several seconds before clearing is throat, prompting her attention.

“I'm sorry.”

“I am aware your kind strongly run on emotions, but know that those sorts of reactions will set me off as well.  I may not react harmlessly next time out of instinct rather than maliciously,” Nebula warned, not pausing in her poking at the digital screen and reading the ship's vitals.

Tony registered the warning loud and clear, but still snuck over to look over her arm in an attempt to read and decipher what was on the screen.

“Green. It's green! Green is good!” he said, tone expressing relief when he saw the meters in the outlines of thrusters and an image that appeared to be in the shape of an engine were a pale green color.

“It's progress, but not a promise.  Two are red, which means once the power flow is restored to them, it will equalize and they will hover in the yellow.”

“Yellow is still… still good,” Tony hedged, falling back onto the cot from sudden dizziness.

He gave a weak whistle and waved Nebula over.  “Come see what I've been working on.”

She rolled her head in that particular way Tony identified to be her way of showing annoyance before coming over.  She looked at the table in front of him. He had set blue and silver squares into a pattern on its top and constructed crudely shaped miniature statues of varying sizes that lined up in two rows on opposite sides the table.

“What is its purpose?”

“It's a game we play on Earth. It's called chess. One of several strategic games we play down there,” Tony explained.  “It's simple to learn how to play. Well, simple enough anyway. I'm sure you will nail it in no time, though.”

Nebula was unimpressed by the description.  “So you fight your opponent using small status as the weapons?”

“No.”

It was clear after Tony went over the pieces names, how to use them, and the general concept of how the game was played that Nebula had never played anything like it.  The version of what she perceived as a game, she so gruesomely detailed, entailed beating the crap out of her siblings or going on missions that involved killing everyone on sight.  Tony pitied her, and found himself calmly attempting to show her how to play. Nebula was very determined to eliminate all the pieces by any means necessary rather than following the rules, so he tried a different approach.

“Let's uh, let's try something a little bit more straightforward. Yes?”

Nebula got up.  “Later. Enough time has been wasted.”

“They call it taking a break! It's good for you to do from time to time. Or so I'm told,” Tony called after her as she exited the ship again.

He flicked his king piece in the air and caught it as he reflected on his lessons.  Despite her obsession with metaphorical killing of the chess pieces, she seemed to be getting the hang of it somewhat.  He would still start simpler, take out the aggression some, but for now he had taken enough of a break, and got to his feet to join her on the inspections.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** Implied/referenced panic/anxiety attacks. Implied/referenced survivor's guilt.

* * *

 

**Chapter 3**

 

Tony: Ship's Log, Earth Year 2018, September 4th. Day Three.

 

Starkship is airborne! And no explosions have occurred. This is—

_(He trails off, but a heavy sigh of relief is heard.)_

Tony: This is truly an answered prayer and a huge relief for me.  Maybe even a bit of a well-needed ego boost because, for a minute there, it felt like literally everything was working against us.  We came through. We did it.

Nebula is running a few more tests before she gives a final juice-up to Starkship Enterprise and we will be off this rock for good.  Titan is my new least favorite place now. Loathe the wasteland design. In fact, to make it official, Florida is restored back on my radar.  Particularly Miami. God that place is dreadful.

The oxygen conversion system needed the most attention once we got all the thrusters and engines sorted out.  Those weren't as bad as anticipated, but breathing is pretty important, even if my alien cyborg companion thinks otherwise. She's a good one, though.  Couldn't have asked for a better cosmic friend to be stranded with.

The initial test flight went very well, but there's no way to know 100% that the hyper—is it a hyperdrive?

_(An annoyed, growl-like sigh is heard in the background.)_

Tony: The name for it doesn't matter, but what does is that it is potentially operational.  Until we get the bird out into deep space will we know for certain that it will be my first class ticket back to Earth. The navigational system has been acting finicky, but it's functioning well enough to hone in and set a course to take me home in a few hours time.

It's a critical element to have in order for the other thing to work, I've been told.  Navigating space is similar to LA traffic, except you weave around comets, planets, space junk, and asteroid fields instead of jerks in sports cars.

I never thought I would encounter an opportunity to experience hyperspace, but I also never thought I'd be able to fly at supersonic speed a handful of years ago, either.  I have also mastered space tools. Quite practical things, very useful. I can add another niche to the belt of successful careers—Astral Mechanic.

_(A clanking noise is heard very close by.)_

Nebula: You are barely at novice levels.

Tony: And there's the punchline. 

_(Nebula seems to ignore the comment.)_

Nebula: This needs mended.

Tony: On it, Blue Ma'am Group.

Anyway, no time like the present, I suppose.

I believe that it is safe to say that I'm finally coming home… to what… I can only hope for the best, expect the absolute worst... and that there is a Burger King still open.

 

* * *

 

Tony had his head and right arm shoved inside one of the larger thrusters on the left wing.  An occasional noise was heard of metal hitting metal that followed with a clang or two. Nebula was laser welding a section she just worked on back together on another thruster nearby, barely registering his grunts and swearing at his task.

“Ah-ha!” he said seconds before pulling his arm out and waving the small piece of debris held in it.  “Found it.”

“About time,” she jabbed back.  Tony started to take these comments as very dry jokes on her part.  “Let's see if this thing—”

Tony ducked his head out after concluding no damage was inflicted from his tinkering.

“Starkship Enterprise.”

Nebula looked at him in a way that screamed “seriously?” at him.

“What? Benatar is mediocre,” he said.  “At least mine is a great pun. All my Earth friends will love it.”

He trailed off then, appearing very somber as he reflected on the thoughtless statement.

“—wants to fly.”

She finished her task before shoving a nearby flap closed.  Tony glanced at the twisted metal in hand for a second before discarding it and following her back to the ship.

Nebula pulled up the digital panel again that showed them the ship's vitals and power to the engines and thrusters.  After tapping a few things and attaching a thick cord to her elbow, the meters started to shift between three colors before they all equalized and settled into a lime green color across the board.

“Better than predicted,” she said, removing the cord and replacing it back where it belonged.  “I advise for you to wait outside.”

Tony stepped back and away from her then, suddenly on guard.  “Nope. Not going to happen, sorry.”

“Should the ship malfunction during the test flight, you will remain unharmed on the ground,” she attempted to reason, moving over to the Captain's chair and activating the flight control system.

“Yeah, no.  If this thing goes up in flames with or without me on it, my death certificate is signed on both outcomes,” Tony deadpanned, taking the co-pilot's seat and strapping in.  “I got nothing to loose right now.”

“Suit yourself.”

Nebula hit a few switches and that promising sound of everything slowly powering up gave Tony that giddy feeling in his chest.  This was it, the ultimate test that will prove their tireless handiwork was successful. Nebula gripped the joystick and acceleration handle on either side of the chair, and within seconds, the ship jerked roughly upward.  The jostling had the chest belt grind into Tony’s injury, reawakening the steady pain he was able to ignore that reminded him that it wasn’t healing as steadily as the one on his back had.

The M-ship steadily increased its height, Nebula steadied it out before the jerking got to nauseating for Tony.  The smile on his face seemed to be plastered on as the navigation system pinged once they were at the appropriate height.

“Take off is stable,” Nebula confirmed, checking the panel in front of her.  “How are you en flight?”

“Perfect,” he said quickly, eager for what was coming next. 

She tilted her head slowly to look at him, taking in his physical reassurance before she hit a button and shot the handle forward.  Tony felt the sudden force press him into his seat, and the quick turn to the left to dodge a large broke-down structure sent a surge of adrenaline through him.  She circled their makeshift campsite a couple times, speeding up and slowing down to make sure everything responded accordingly before landing in a clear patch closer to the Donut.  The landing was not as smooth as the takeoff, and it left Tony feeling a bit dazed from the jerky dropdown, but it didn’t damper the newfound excitement that coursed through him.

He held his hand up in the deadspace between them, looking at Nebula with the stupid grin he couldn’t get off his face.  “You did it. Great job.”

Nebula looked his way, staring for a long moment before obliging in the high five.  The small smile twitching the corner of her lip did not go unnoticed by Tony.

“Yes… _we_ did it,” she reaffirmed.

Unbuckling herself quickly, Nebula flipped a few switches and the low power down sounds echoed around Tony.

“Siphoning the energy from Maw's ship is going to take some time.  I advise you to rest in the meantime.” She turned to leave and paused, turning her gaze back to him.  “And eat. Your body is appearing gaunt.”

He unstrapped himself, gently rubbing his side where the belt dug into.  “I thought we established that resting isn't really my forte.”

She squinted at him, her tone hedged an unsaid warning.  “Perhaps you need some encouragement.”

Tony raised a hand in submission.  “Alright, alright. You do your thing and I'll…” he let out a sigh.  “I'll do mine.”

Nebula left without another word, leaving Tony to his own devices.  He inspected the wound, thankfully it hasn't reopened again despite the redness forming around it.  That wasn't the best of signs, but he drew the conclusion it was the result of the belt harness.

He laid in the cot, folding a thin, metallic, paper-like material he found into a shape of a football, and flicked it it in the air several times.  He paused to grab his helmet that sat on top of the chessboard and switched it on to log their successful progress. Though he didn't feel they were needed anymore, having a record of it was still smart.

Tony rummaged through the rations and noticed they weren't dwindling as quickly as he calculated, which meant that Nebula wasn't eating.  He never thought to ask if she even needed sustenance, he’d been so focused on helping her get the ship up and running that small talk was the last thing on his mind.  Everything exchanged between them revolved around repairing the spacecraft.

He didn't know anything about her, really.  Aside from the obvious.

When she returned she wasted no time charging the system before they were ready for the real takeoff. 

He offered her one of the strange protein-like bars after they were secured in their seats and she barely acknowledged it.  “You do eat, right?”

She ticked the switches on and checked the panels.  “It's not important for me to, but yes I do. Don't touch the yaro root, they are the best.”

“Right.  Well once we get out of the atmosphere, we will have to properly celebrate.  You can crack open a yaro, and I'll have a water.”

“Sounds feasible.” She gripped the controls and looked at him.  “Ready?”

“Born ready.”

He braced himself when the ship took to the sky.  Leaving the atmosphere was a little more rough than Tony thought it'd be, like experiencing turbulence on a plane but felt much more violently.  When Nebula announced they were clear of the atmosphere and gravity pull did Tony take a proper breath.

Things got very dark quickly as they left Titan behind, but the sight that unfolded before him was more beautiful than what the NASA photos could ever show.  The countless stars speckled across the oily-black sea of space and the gases that caused them to blink and shimmer was a breathless sight to behold. The feeling of the ship's gravity pull activating made his stomach churn some at the sudden adjustment.  He felt lighter, but only just enough that walking was still required to get around. He released himself from the harness’ clutches to retrieve their celebration feast, grabbing Nebula one of those strange looking yellow-white eggplants she called a yaro root and a drink of his own.

“Cheers to getting out of that dreadful place in record time,” he said, raising the bottle up.

Nebula gripped the root in her hand, observing the action before mimicking it.  Tony tapped the bottle against the oblong, pale yellow flesh of the space fruit thing before taking a long drink of the vitamin-and-nutrient-infused.  She proceeded to eat the root when a ping prompted her back to the Captain's chair.

“The navigation system has routed a course for Earth. Though it is having trouble locking in exact coordinates,” she observed, bringing up an image of it.

Seeing the planet made Tony's breath hitch involuntary, and he became focused on the numbers that appeared next to the image.  Everything from it's population, gravitational pull, the tilt of the Earth, its age, and the UTC time and date was listed, but the one he focused on was the very low population numbers that hovered around the three-point-five billion range.

Nebula watched him still as he took in the image, blinking slowly before resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.  “Let's go.”

“Right, let's.” Tony took in a needed breath and sat back in the co-pilot chair and buckled in.

Nebula mimicked the gesture and pulled the panel closer to her.  “You are not used to jumping. Don't be surprised if you pass out or expel your body's contents.”

She locked the routed course into the system despite the lack of precision that was required to jump safely.

“Thanks for the heads up.”

“Usually precise coordinates are needed for jumping, but I am sure that minor detail will not deter you from wanting to return home,” she said, preparing to route power through the hyperdrive (he decided to go ahead and settle calling it that).  “I have risked jumps with far less accuracy available.”

“You seem pretty confident in this,” Tony acknowledged.  “I trust you.”

This seemed to surprise Nebula some as she finished her checks in silence.  Tony pressed his back against the chair, gripping the arms tightly, and prepared for what was to come.

“Warp speed ahead, Nebby.”

She hit a few buttons, turned into the direction of their flight path, and moved the handle forward. Tony saw the stars barely start to blur when a noise that was meant to not sound good went off rapidly.

“What?  What is that?  What's wrong?” the panic in his tone veiled the horrible fear that settled in his stomach.

Nebula quickly snapped switches and punched buttons.  “The navigation system has failed. I need to pull us out of the jump.”

“We just… we just got here!” he said.  “Can't we wait a second or five?”

“If we wait we will likely burn up in your galaxy's star,” she scolded, going to pull back the handle when his hand landed on hers.

“Please…” He had removed part of his harness to lean over the deadspace between them in order to stop her.

“Secure yourself now,” she warned.  “...You said you trusted me, Tony. Please...”

A long second passed before he backed off and resecured himself in time for Nebula to metaphorically hit the brakes.  The stars around them reformed back into their tiny dots around them, but the immediate sound of something hitting the exterior hard resounded loudly in Tony's ears.

Nebula's hands shot over the panel in front of her at lighting speed before Tony could fully register what was going on.  Glancing out the window, rocks of varying sizes surrounded them. They were in a meteoroid and asteroid field, and they were not bouncing off the ship gently due to their speed.

He saw she had her arm linked up to the ship again, but for some reason he couldn't get his harness free to help her.

“Nebula…” Tony stuttered out, glancing from her to the window that showed a very large asteroid heading directly for them.  “Nebby—there is a big one two o'clock coming in hot.”

She grabbed the joystick and jerked it violently to the left, just missing the massive asteroid.  But this had them encounter a smaller space rock that clipped the wing, sending them into an uncontrolled spin.  Nebula attempted to correct it, but veered into the other direction too sharply, a small meteoroid struck them hard, ironically yet thankfully stabilizing them. Unfortunately their attempt was futile as they were turned around and facing the large asteroid again.

Tony, barely conscious, head spinning, and side aching from the sudden G-forces he experienced, he tried to focus on what she was doing.  His vision was blurring. “Nebby… wha—”

It was enough to remind Nebula of keeping him in the know.  “I'm sending power to the shields. If I don't, we will be torn apart.”

He resisted the urge to throw up.

“Lig—Jump again!” he pleaded.

“Jumping while in a field is suicide.  The navigational system was more faulty than it let on and failed to map a course to avoid this. Traveling without it being operational is a risk I don't want to take.”

Strange charging sounds quickly filled his ears around him and he saw the bubble-like veil of a shield forming on the outside.

“You said you have jumped with less!” Tony snapped, voice shaking as he struggled to stay alert.

“The cargo was less valuable then…”

He felt anger flaring in his chest and he fought with the harness that he was certain Nebula tampered with on the control panel to keep it locked.  Tony looked from her stoic face, his expression changing from murderous, to confused, to fear as he looked back at the window where she was focused on.  The asteroid turned lazily but moved quickly for them. She jumped back in the chair to jerk the ship away again only to realize that the thrusters had shutdown.

The tone of her voice was far from comforting.

“...Prepare for impact.”

Tony's vision blacked out then, but he heard that distinct, shocking surge and Nebula's agonized scream resonate around him that indicated she was forcing the systems power to channel a specific area before he went completely unconscious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** I suck. I am sorry. This was supposed to come out on Friday...it is Monday...this story was supposed to be done by now. >.< I have failed you all. Please don't hurt me. Have 2 chapters instead.
> 
>  **Warning:** Minor surgery procedure, mentions of space sickness (yes, that is a real thing), Implied/referenced panic/anxiety attacks, Implied/referenced survivor's guilt.

* * *

 

Tony: Earth Year 2018, September 7th... no 8th. Day Seven.

 

The impact from the asteroid all but tore the ship to pieces had it not been for Nebula's quick thinking.  The shield protected us from the worst of it while she forced the remaining power to the functioning thrusters to get out of the field and back on a general course for Earth before they overheated and shut down from the surge and collective damage from the impacts.

Nebula appeared unharmed from the incident when I finally came to hours later.  The spacecraft was sent into an unintended spin during the attempts to avoid the giant asteroid to no avail.  I blacked out as a result and… well Nebula warned me the possible side effects of space travel.

That brilliant woman went so far as to tether herself to the ship and went out there to assess the damage with no protection on.  After all her efforts, only two thrusters were working—both on the same wing.

Her resilience and know-how in jury-rigging a spacecraft while floating around in space is phenomenal.  She managed to get a working thruster moved to the other side and kept it in working order all in one go.

After a lot of configuration, we managed a steady course for a couple hours before they eventually gave out.

I have been useless for most of these repairs.  Between the nausea and the bouts of sudden dizziness and weakness, it has left me mostly out of commission.  Space sickness is a very real thing, and unfortunately I am not immune.

_(A heavy swallow is heard, followed by a sharp intake of breath.)_

Tony: Everything we can do has been done so far unless one of us has an eureka moment.  As far as I can tell, our mini space jump cut our drive time in half, but that still shows we have over six hundred million kilometers left.  That places us somewhere around Jupiter's orbital range. No planet in sight, would be difficult to miss I'd hope. Just a whole lot of… space surrounding us.

Knowing that every little dot out here possibly holds life now really makes you feel very insignificant when you're aimlessly floating around among it all.

 

* * *

  

Tony woke with a throbbing head and a searing pain in his side.  He was still strapped into the chair that Nebula locked him in after he tried to stop her from leaving hyperspeed.  A precaution on her part, he assumed. His interference could've had them overshoot her guesswork destination and killed them both, but landing in a meteoroid and asteroid field was not an intended pitstop to crash into or expect.

He groaned and looked down at the harness holding him in to see the chest strap did what he hoped it would not do—reopen his wound.

Nebula was nowhere near him, but the metal on metal noises told him she was hard at work salvaging the ship.  Tony was able to release the harness belt and he used the back of the seat to pull himself up to a standing position.  His clothes smelled of bile—among other things—and he needed to get them off his person, get his injury under control, and find out exactly what happened.

His legs felt like jelly and he used what he could to make his way over to his cot and clean up, he glimpsed Nebula burrowing under a floor plate nearby as he did so.

“Status report?” he asked with a grimace.

Pulling off the tshirt and fetching the last clean black tank top and pants from Quill's emergency rucksack, he flinched and put a hand on his side.  The trickling of blood oozed from between his fingers, and after psyching himself up, Tony looked at it. The area around it was a vibrant red and the opening was raw where the torn scabs were yellowing.  Not good signs at all. He could only hope there was one more magic medicine hidden in the medical kit to stop the onset infection.

Nebula climbed out of the hole in the floor, observing his appearance carefully.  “It’s better if you didn’t know.”

“Nebula,” he snapped, “What happened?”

“Your wound needs attention,” she countered, grabbing a medical case and ripping it open.

Tony moved over to the panel he knew showed the technical stuff of the ship—stumbling than anything to get to it—and all but punched it to get it to come on.  It showed him what the pit in his stomach already knew. Everything was dead.

“It took a lot of power to keep the shield up.  The asteroid would've decimated us if I didn't do what I did,” she said, approaching him and touching his side to inspect the wound.

The hiss that escaped him was a combination of her placing a strange cloth over his injury and him resisting to yell out his frustration at the outcome they found themselves in.  Tony nearly collapsed from the overload of everything happening, his mind racing so quickly it was difficult to concentrate on one thing. Nebula caught him before he fell completely to the floor and guided him onto the cot where she laid him down.

“You’re excreting a lot of liquid from your skin, your color is greying, and your wounds infection is spreading.  I must cauterize it.”

“Wait…”

Tony’s breathing was labored as he fought to stay conscious again.  The cool cloth pressed over his injury felt like it was pulling the infections heat right out of it.  He wondered why these weren’t options given earlier, but Nebula seemed like the sort that held good reason behind her choices.  At this point he needed to trust her.

She returned with one of the laser tools he became quite familiar with and turned it on.  Grabbing a strange bottle from the kit she had open on the floor, she knelt beside him and removed the cloth to spray the bottles contents over it.

Giving the area another good spray, Tony felt his skin start to numb, and glancing at the injury that looked way worse than it did yesterday, he saw the sickly coloring on it receding some.  Nebula pressed the opening closed with cold fingers and lowered the laser down to it before pausing to look at him. She seemed to register his growing panic at the procedure about to unfold, she glanced at the nanotech housing reactor attached to his chest before meeting his gaze.  He had told her a couple times already that he preferred to be talked through what was being done as she did it, or what was going on when he couldn’t grasp something so he could understand and be of more help to her.

He also mentioned in passing about medical procedures being a tick for him for several unsaid reasons.

“The other treatments have not been working.  The collision with the asteroid had your harness reinjure you.  You’ve been out for over a day, allowing infection has set in,” Nebula explained, spraying the area again to be on the safe side.  “I saved this procedure for a possible situation where it would be required. It is required now. Are you okay with this?”

He took a stifled breath, laying his head back and closing his eyes.  “A whole day?”

“Yes.”  Nebula blinked, expressionless to the response.  “I was preoccupied for a majority of it, and the ride was not the smoothest for some time.  Navigating through the field was a difficult task, keeping you secure was the safest option.”

“I lost… I lost...” His breathing increased.  Losing that much time being unconscious was causing him to freak out.

“Tony,” Nebula said sharply, prompting him to open his eyes to look at her.  “Your injury… I need to cauterize or the infection will continue aiding your sickness.”

He gave her a faint nod, bracing himself for the inevitable pain.  “Yes, alright… okay.”

Tony felt his muscles tense as soon as the laser touched his skin and it took everything he could to not jerk away in response.  What he wasn’t expecting was it to take a handful of seconds and the cooling cloth was placed back over his injury as soon as she was finished.

His vision faded out for who knows how long afterwards, but when he came to again, Nebula had a bottle of water and a protein bar sitting on his makeshift chessboard with a note.

_Outside repairing the thrusters.  Do not panic. Rest. Eat._

He was too riddled in exhaustion to do much else.  Keeping track of the days was all he could focus on when he found himself awake long enough to take in his surroundings.  Tony checked his wound when he had the stomach to brave the sight and found it healing. The blue gel was slathered over it, but the redness and swelling had all but vanished now.  The freshly fused-and-raised skin was the only thing that remained.

Eight days had now passed since the Snap. They were no longer stranded on Titan, instead they were lost in deep space.  Tony finally felt well enough to get on the clean set of clothes he meant to do a few days prior to no avail. Hygiene in space was the least of his problems for the time being, he needed to get up to speed on what his cyborg colleague was trying to do to resolve this new problem.

Tony made his way to the co-pilot's seat and sat down, taking in the endless abyss looking back at him through the window.  He pondered about what was out there. The distress signal was working, he saw, and it had him wonder that whatever was still alive out in this endless wonder that is space, harboring countless creatures and beings beyond anyone’s imagination, where they were now.  There was evidence of extraterrestrial life on the very ship he was in, and yet he couldn’t fathom the thought of being the only ones roaming around out here. They really couldn’t be the only ones…

Hearing the safety shield power on as the back lift opened, Tony didn’t bother acknowledging Nebula until she was standing nearby him.  He pointed at the red blinking light in front of him.

“The distress signal—does it send out a generic coded message?”

“All ships are programmed with a generic distress signal coded as nothing but a series of beeping sounds and pauses,” she stated, tampering with something.  He raised his brows at the revelation that aliens used morse code, or at least something that resembled it, as well.

“I modified ours to be a verbal message in every language and dialect I know.”

This prompted him to look at her, curiosity piqued.  “How many is that?”

“Millions.”

“Brilliant.  I mean, that’s fantastic.”  The thought of whoever lingering out there being able to understand it should they pick up the signal was comfortings.  “We never discussed or formed a plan on the possibility of being space-hitchhikers.”

“Easy,” she responded quickly.  “If they are friendly, we cooperate.  If not, we have a new ship.”

Tony blinked at her several times as he processed the statement.  “You’re telling me that if a nasty thing decides to come and say hi we’re just going to what?  Hijack their ship, crew and all, just like that?”

“Affirmative.” Nebula turned his way.  “Just like that.”

“How, exactly?”

“You will conceal yourself under the floor plates using one of the thermal blankets to cloak your heat signature while I board and handle the problem,” she said simply.

He took a deep breath, trying to not be shell shocked that she was casually talking about slaughtering an entire fleet of sentient beings like it was tea time conversation.  “You say it like you’re clocking in for a nine-to-five.”

Nebula stared at him, not understanding the joke.

“Like it’s a boring day of work,” he clarified.

“I am a daughter of Thanos.  I was trained to wipe out thousands solo,” Nebula said, voice toneless.  “It is what I do.”

“But you don’t have to,” Tony said quickly.  “Not anymore.”

“If it means that we will acquire a functional ship, I will do what is necessary.”

“Okay. But how will I know you’ll come for me once all that is said and done?”

She completely stopped her tinkering to turn and fully face him them.  He knew her pupil-less eyes looked directly into his, and he oddly couldn’t tear his away despite the strange chill that settled down his spine.  Not because of fear, but of being reaffirmed that extraterrestrial life truly existed, and her gaze reflected the darkness he was staring out into moments ago.

“My father kept you alive for a reason.  He rarely extends this mercy, especially to someone like you.” Nebula blinked once, but still stared at him.  “You must have been a valuable asset to him to warrant this gesture. I believe that we survived his mission because we are what is left of his legacy.”

“What are you saying?” The thought of being a successor to a mad titan alien rekindled the fire in his chest.

“In a way, you have become a Child of Thanos,” Nebula confirmed.  “But he has completed his mission, and so we are no longer of use to him.  He sparing us is his gift.”

Tony was rendered speechless at this alleged revelation.  Nebula must have been out in the toxic space gas and dust for too long to draw such outrageous conclusions.  Though as he thought on it in the silence that settled between them for hours after, he started to reluctantly believe it.  The vision Wanda induced in him all those years ago, the nightmares, Ultron’s awakening, the never ending need to try and fix and protect the world at all costs was because…

Nebula strapping herself into the captain’s chair pulled Tony out of his inner thoughts.

“I managed to move one of the functioning thrusters over to the other wing.  Jumping is no longer an option, but they are charged and will keep us moving for the time being,” Nebula relayed, switching on only the required buttons and things to position their ship in the right direction before allowing it to run its course.

She pointed to the faint light that barely stuck out from the others in front of them.  “That bright dot ahead, that is your star, Tony.”

He sighed deeply and secured his own harness.  Looking out into the darkness that lay ahead to where she pointed at the faint orange-ish dot in the bleakness of space.  What little hope he had left now was wagered on the possibility of something finding them, and soon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:**  Here is the final chapter. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it.  I wish I wrote it when it first came to mind when the first  _Endgame_  trailer was released. Oh well, it is here now, and probably not as impactful as it could've been but... I wrote it anyway.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> **Warning:**  References to panic/anxiety attacks, References to onsetting hypoxemia, malnourishment, delirious episodes, grieving, accepting ones defeat/death.

 

* * *

**Chapter 5**

 

_(A heavy breath is exhaled.)_

Tony: Earth Year 2018, September 17th. Day Sixteen.

 

We have exhausted every effort within our capabilities to keep this bird moving forward. The thrusters have completely gone out for good now. No amount of tinkering and banging around on anything is doing the trick anymore.

We had one last breakthrough after discovering a couple cracked fuel cells inflicted from stray debris hitting us, and re-routing the ion charges has extended the oxygen conversion tanks lifespan for a few more days at best, but that was all we could swing. This baby is one hundred percent spent.

We are dead in the black ink spill of space.

It's becoming difficult to track the passing of time out here. If it weren't for Nebula checking the faulty navigator every so often, I'd be completely lost on how many days it's been since our ultimate failure to stop the intergalactic decimation.

Sleep is near impossible. The only time I find to get any is when exhaustion overwhelms me, but even then it's only a couple hours at a time. Sleeping in space makes you feel incredibly vulnerable, topped with the shock of losing melding into regret…

_(A stuttered intake of breath is made, followed by a shaken exhale.)_

Tony: It's not a pretty picture.

Keeping busy is really the only thing preventing me from completely falling apart. It's hard holding onto the sliver of hope left that we will make it back home… I find myself staring at that blinking red dot on the dash more than ever now as Nebula and I find fewer things to try and repair or route power to.

At least Nebula has warmed up to the games. She's a good sport, very competitive. There was definitely a learning curve and finding that fine line between her aggressive and determined state. She's got quite good at chess, not surprised considering. Certainly gives me a run for my money now.

I can't even play paper football with her anymore. Her accuracy is immaculate.

_(A long, drawn out silence settles. An occasional heavy sigh and stuttered intakes of breath is heard.)_

Tony: Admitting defeat is crippling, but I have already seen the infinity, nothing else left to do now but to go to the beyond...

 

* * *

 

Tony often woke to Nebula's muffled screams and the crackling shocks she was putting herself through when she thought he was sleeping. Little did she know he barely slept during his sleep cycle times, but he still laid down, back facing outward, curled under the thermal blanket, and listened to her desperate attempts to make the ship operational again.

She'd walk by him and pause beside his cot sometimes, head bowed in defeat as she uttered under her breath an apology to him before marching to the back of the ship to feebly try and fix something else.

The two remaining thrusters they managed to pep-up every few hours had finally broke down two days ago, and their meager puttered boosts they offered closed very little distance to that sun-speck so far out there in the darkness. Tony found himself staring out into space more than anything else these past couples days, waiting for a miracle that the sun to be much larger each time he sought it out.

He discovered that the rations had not ran out as they originally calculated by now, which meant that Nebula stopped taking her share at some point. Tony wished he paid more attention to her habits now, he knew she had to eat something, she said so herself. He knew what she was doing, and the gesture hurt him.

When the two were both awake, they tinkered with pieces of the ship, seeing if something, anything, would give them a leg up and get them moving again, but oftentimes they drifted between their game of paper football and chess. Some stories were exchanged on occasion, sometimes that was all they did.

They were playing a game now, the makeshift chessboard was in-between them, and Tony waited with baited anticipation as he observed Nebula's careful calculation going on as she internally debated her next move. He had tested her skills a couple times already, and this time he wanted to see if she could identify her escape from being checked, or fall into a checkmate scenario. She was getting quite good at the game, and he knew her robotic side was taking over on how the game was played now. Several of her tactics were based on mimicking his own, and he couldn't help but smile whenever she pulled one on him.

Nebula was certainly a better opponent than his beloved bot, Dum-E.

She moved the knight over to guard her king, claiming the piece that checked her.

"Nice move."

The game ended quickly after a couple more plays. Nebula managed to corner him into an impossible scenario, and with a sigh, Tony tipped his king over for a third time in a row.

"You've got real good at this game. Great job." The praise always had the corner of her mouth twitch into an almost smirk, and she gladly accepted the high fives without appearing to react aggressively anymore.

It was a major step for her, really. The two had grown quite comfortable with one another's company, and Tony found himself slipping into snippets of story that Nebula countered with far bloodier ones. That has how the days tickled by now.

Tony often woke up shaking, unsure of when he fell asleep to begin with, reaching out to nothing, cradling a wad of blanket, whispering a name through heaving breaths. Nebula would be by his side as he rode out the attacks, offering what little water remained to take the parched edge off just long enough for him to fall back asleep and relive the nightmares all over again.

Nebula was never seen resting, but as she ran out of things to modify, she sat on the floor in front of Tony's cot thinking, processing the words Tony supplied to her from the wizard who gave up the time stone said over and over again. If this was how he foresaw the endgame coming, he clearly made some kind of mistake. Tony's window of survival was dwindling very quickly, and she couldn't stop it.

She would whisper to him sometimes while she sat there beside him. They were often apologies for failing him, some were apologizing to Gamora for failing her. Tony, pretending to sleep to avoid the panic attacks during one of his sleep cycles, heard the cyborg weeping once. He rolled over and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, she sucked in a breath and composed herself, but still found herself placing a hand over his..

That blinking red light on the dash taunted Tony. The slow, predicted blink every thirty seconds was like a fresh stab wound each time as it signaled for no one. Yet, somehow it was their only beacon left out in dead space. He still watched it blink away, but he stopped waiting for anything to come.

He felt himself slowly grow weaker as the oxygen converters started to fail. Talking became less frequent between them, and Tony stopped logging their days after the sixteenth day. It took too much energy on all accounts, and there was nothing to report anymore. They spent their time in silent company, playing a game or laying in their cots resting. Nebula would occasionally check some things before the power systems couldn't even boot them up anymore. The rations had dwindled away, Nebula refused what little remained for Tony's sake. He didn't know how she kept on going, or what would happen to her when he…

Tony swallowed that thought, he didn't dare ask her, either. Instead he occasionally directed his thoughts to what she said about being a Child of Thanos. He wondered what that meant, what made it so special to bear such a title. If they were to be branded as some legacy of his, this was a crappy way to handle it. That train of thought soon stopped mattering to him, and he fell into restless dreams about losing Pepper, seeing her vanishing into ash like Peter had done in his very arms. All he could do was pray she was still alive.

These thoughts extended over to Rhodey as well. They all plagued his nightmares in one way or another. Watching them fall into piles of ash to be swept up into the winds soon after as if nothing had happened. Tony hated sleep, but his body, his mind, yearned for a peaceful rest that wasn't coming fast enough.

The day the distress signal stopped blinking was when Tony felt a cold shutter of finality settle over him. There was nothing left.

Tony cradled his helmet as he slowly moved from his cot over to the cockpit of the ship. He gazed out into the vast emptiness of space that would soon consume him completely. He knew it was the end, there was nothing else they could do to delay the inevitable. Unless someone—something—came in the next several hours…

The universe already failed them. Tony's hope for someone to come to their call was lost three days ago, and even though that red light was one of the few things left still working with very little power left on the ship, it was calling out to nothing.

He gently sat the helmet on the floor before sitting down next to it. Reaching out, he gave it a gentle caress before sliding his hand underneath to turn on the recording feature for the final time. Tapping the eye lightly and muttering while it scanned him, he leaned back against the seat and sighed.

"Hey, Miss Potts…"


End file.
